


in midnights, in cups of coffee

by klausgraves



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, also the bookstore is haunted but theres exactly one ghost, and he wont stop criticizing bens taste in philosophy and its driving him up a wall, dave is a well meaning bookstore manager with a lot on his plate, klaus just keeps showing up and forcing him to find the books ben wants to read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-01-12 23:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klausgraves/pseuds/klausgraves
Summary: Dave is just trying to keep his bookstore open, and the stoned hottie that keeps wandering in and talking at the air really, really isn't helping.





	1. i.

It was late afternoon, and the bookstore was quieter than usual. The music played softly and the few conversations happening were hushed. Dave was crouched over shelving paperback romance novels when he heard the crash. His brow furrowed. He stood up straight and walked towards the center aisle. Kids were always knocking the toy fixture over trying to grab something.

“Are you okay?” Dave rounded the corner and peered down at the mountain of stuffed toys on the ground. Instead of a child, a fully grown man sat half buried under the avalanche. The guy on the ground stared back at him and broke out into a wide grin. Dave felt his cheeks flush.

“Whoops,” the man said. He ran a hand through a messy mop of dark curls. Dave glimpsed a tattoo on the palm of his hand, and another on his wrist. The man smelled faintly of weed and something else he couldn't quite recognize. He wore a sheepish look on his soft features. 

“Sorry for knocking this over,” he said and gestured at the mess around him. Dave thought of how chaotic the store looked after close on a weekend, when hundreds of customers had torn through the aisles. This wasn’t nearly as bad.

The man picked up a plush unicorn and looked into its wide pink eyes. He mirrored its expression and broke out into another grin. There was a childlike tinge to his erratic behavior. He put the unicorn down and looked at the merchandise that stuffed the wooden shelves. 

“It’s fine.” Dave picked up the display and righted it. He grabbed his PDT, scanned a toy, and placed it in its designated spot. Carefully, he began to put the display back together. Come tomorrow it would be torn apart again by tiny hands, but Dave didn't mind. He felt a small pleasure in putting things in their rightful place. One of his favorite things about the store was that nothing was ever truly out of place. At least not for long.

“Cute stuff you sell here.” Dave followed the stranger's gaze to a tote that read “I like big books and I cannot lie.” The man laughed. It was a high pitched, airy laugh that melted into a soft giggle. Dave looked away from the curious man and ignored the effect the sound had on him. He continued cleaning up.

The man was still there. He’d picked himself up off the floor and leaned against an end cap. Dave met his gaze. His eyes were chartreuse under the fluorescent light. He wore a feathered jacket, a much too-small crop top and tied leather pants. The man’s pale, flat stomach peaked out from under the shirt. Dave swallowed.

“Can I help you with anything else?” He liked a pretty face as much as the next guy, but he had a lot of work to do. The closing barista had called out and they were days behind on receiving books. Payroll was tight. Getting tighter by the day, in fact. 

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “For knocking it over. Can I help?” Dave sighed. He didn’t have time for this. Irritation prickled his skin. He placed a plush on the display and scanned another. The man picked up a toy at random and put it on the top shelf. 

“It doesn’t go there,” Dave snapped. He grabbed the offending toy and scanned it. PLUSH DISPLAY, SIDE A, ROW B, SPOT 3. He placed it three from the left on the second highest shelf, next to a tiger plush. Dave forced himself to relax his clenched jaw. He heard nails scratch lightly back and forth against skin. 

He turned to the man and saw he had averted his gaze. The man looked down the history aisle intently. Dave leaned over to peek at the aisle and saw nothing. _Okay_ , he thought. _That was kind of weird_. His young coworker Minda quirked her brow at him as she walked by with an armful of books. Dave raised a shoulder in response. 

“Look, I’d like to apologize.” He raised his hand to the back of his neck and dug his fingers deep into the muscle. It had been six hours since he’d arrived at the store, and it didn’t look like he’d be leaving any time soon. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sure it was a mistake. We’re just a little short staffed today,” he continued. The man turned from the empty aisle back to Dave. He tilted his head. 

“No harm no foul, big guy,” he said and winked. The man playfully punched him in the shoulder. Dave laughed and shook his head, face contorted in confusion. He wondered exactly what had brought the man to the bookstore. Not that the indie bookstore didn’t get its fair share of odd duck customers, because, they did. Dave remembered the midnight release of the last Harry Potter novel and shuddered.

“I said I’ll ask him when I’m good and ready to ask,” the man hissed down the still empty aisle. _Yeah_ , Dave thought to himself. _This one might take the cake_. The man turned back to him with a flourish. He was staring at Dave again and it took more effort than he cared to admit to not fidget. 

“So,” he said drawing out the ‘o’. His eyes flickered to the name tag pinned to Dave’s shirt. “Dave the bookseller. Can you tell me where I might find some Descartes?”

☆ 

Dave wiped the residue from the steam wand with more force than he’d intended. He watched as Klaus slowly flipped the pages of a book that sat upside down in front of him. When Dave had handed him the book, Klaus turned to the empty space next to them.

“This one?” He sought approval from the empty air. Dave had a creeping feeling that something was very, very off with the man. A moment passed and Klaus smiled. His lips were pink and plush. “This is it! I thank you very, very dearly.” 

“Peter,” Dave called out as he placed the scalding latte on the counter. A burly man took the drink and walked out. He checked his watch. They were closing in ten minutes, and there was only one customer left in the store. The biting winter wind cut through the cafe as the front door opened and closed. He looked at Klaus in his holed jeans and light t-shirt. The jacket he had previously been wearing was gone. Dave let his head fall back and suppressed a groan. 

He grabbed a cup and cardboard liner and filled it almost fully. Three sugars, two creams. Klaus sighed and flipped a page in his upside-down book. Dave looked at him and added a few shakes of cinnamon to the coffee. He crossed the small cafe and placed the drink in front of him.

"It's cold," Dave choked out. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He was so fucking good at making things awkward.

"Outside. Cold outside. And in here, too!" Klaus looked up at Dave and said nothing. It was a simple enough gesture. What wasn't he getting? Dave ran his hand through his hair and it caught in a knot. He tugged it free. 

"I can't pay for this." The coffee was two dollars at most. His stomach clenched. Dave shrugged and tried to remember what cool, uninterested people sounded like. The acoustic song that played from the overhead speakers gently filled the silence between the two men.

"You don't have to," he said. Klaus's expression shifted and god, Dave could have gazed into the man's bright eyes all night. The vulnerability in his face was too much and Dave turned around.

"We throw out the coffee at the end of the night anyway," he said as he walked back towards the counter. "No use letting it go to waste." He grabbed the milk pitchers from the counter and walked through the swinging doors to the cafe's back room. As he crossed the threshold, he heard a quiet "thanks" come from across the dining room.

Dave bit his bottom lip and smiled.


	2. i.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave "I saw a dog on the bus to work and I almost cried because it was so cute" Katz tries so hard to be firm and lay down the Laws of the Bookstore. And fails.

It was early spring. The thick weight of winter had thawed and flora of the new season had begun to blossom. Dave opened his eyes and stared up at his yellowing ceiling. He felt the weight of his cat Pluto on his thighs and smiled.  
  
Today was supposed to be the first truly nice day of the season. They'd had a long, drawn out winter this year and Dave was looking forward to feeling the warm sun on his skin. Months of trudging through slush and ice had worn his patience thin.  
  
He buried his hand in the soft, long fur of the animal dozing on him. Dave kept scratching until the cat rolled over and exposed her plump belly. He felt the deep rumbling of her purrs. Pluto kicked out a back leg and laid it across Dave's forearm. It took all of his virile willpower to not pinch the little pink pads. He gave Pluto one last scratch and sat up. The early morning light peaked through his broken blinds.  
  
Dave shivered as his feet hit the cold tiles. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen. It didn't take very long: bookstore manager wasn't the most lucrative position he could have picked, and the rent got higher every year. He scratched at the stubble on his chin as the old coffeemaker brewed slowly into a mug.  
  
He was truly exhausted. The end of the fiscal year was coming and they were scraping the bottom of the barrel for funds. As a salaried employee, he could pull as many hours as the store needed without putting them over payroll. The coffee burnt his tongue as he gulped it down. No time to waste.  
  
Pluto was curled into a ball dozing again when he got back into his bedroom. He laughed. Dave wished he could curl up and go back to bed too. He pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt. His sock drawer was empty. He groaned as he remembered. By the time he got home after staying late to close, all the laundromats nearby were closed. _This is a problem for morning Dave_ , he'd thought smugly to himself last night. Well. Morning Dave was here, and he was very unprepared.  
  
"Shit," he said as he dug through his clean laundry basket from last week that he'd never quite gotten around to putting away. He pulled out one black sock, and one white. Sighing, he tugged them on to his feet. Nobody would notice anyway. He tied up his work shoes and rose into a considerable stretch. Dave made his way to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. There were bags beginning to form under his eyes, and the five o'clock shadow on his jaw had traipsed into forty-eight hour territory. He shaved quickly and brushed his teeth.  
  
He made sure to lock up his unit door and click the building door firmly shut. It was a fine neighborhood, but you could never be too sure. It took him a few minutes to get to the bus stop. The bus ride across town was uneventful. Most commuters wouldn't be up and on the roads for another half hour or so, so Dave was able to score a seat. He laid his head back and closed his eyes until the driver called out his stop.  
  
"Thank you," he called back to the driver as he hopped off the bus. He walked across the parking lot of the shopping plaza and dug through his pocket for his keys. It was the first day of the year that didn't truly require a coat, and he had maybe gone overboard stuffing things into his jean pockets. He wished it was socially acceptable to wear a purse as a man. Maybe he'd buy a satchel. _Cool guys wore satchels_ , he thought. _I think_. He shook the idea from his head and finally unearthed his keys.  
  
Dave slid the key into the lock on the front door and turned it. There was a flurry of movement and he could see a figure behind him, reflected in the glass of the door. He yanked the key out and turned around, gesturing violently with it. His heat beat hammered in his ears.  
  
"I've got a weapon, and I'm not afraid!" The figure in front of him wore the stupidest grin and folded in half to grab their stomach. Familiar laughter echoed through the empty parking lot. Dave let out the breath he'd been holding. He rolled his eyes and let his outstretched arm fall to his side. Of course it was fucking Klaus. Dave sighed. The man was still doubled over with laughter. At least one of them was in a good mood.  
  
"You scared the shit out of me, man!" The man righted himself after a moment and wiped at the tears flowing down his face. Klaus let out a few more snickers and leaned against the stone pillar behind him. He was disheveled and brazen and beautiful. His hair was flatter and greasier than it had been before. He wore the same outfit as yesterday. Dave looked him up and down to confirm it. Klaus took notice and shifted from foot to foot.  
  
"That was hilarious," he said, deflecting. He opened his eyes wide. "'Ahhh, I've got a weapon! It's a very dangerous key and I'm not afraid to use it! I'll gut ya in a heartbeat!" He put on a shrill voice and made stabbing and swiping motions with his hand. Dave pushed the limb away from him gently.  
  
"That is not what I sound like," he said. "And a key is a fine weapon!" Klaus raised an eyebrow at him. "You could...you could take an eye out with it!"  
  
"Okay Ralphie," Klaus said with disbelief. "I know my fair share of non-standard weaponry and trust me, a key doesn't qualify." Dave squinted at him. He tilted his head and looked at Klaus for a minute. Not for the first time, Dave wondered what the man was doing there. He opened his mouth to inquire when he was abruptly cut off.  
  
"So when exactly does this fine establishment open up," he said and gestured to the front doors. Dave kept his attention on him. He took in the red rimmed eyes and how they flitted nervously from spot to spot. There were two track marks on Klaus' left arm and beneath them, his hands clenched and relaxed again and again. If he breathed deeply enough, he could smell the alcohol coming off Klaus in waves. He was an addict, Dave realized. It sent a pang of emotion right to his stomach.  
  
"Not for another hour and a half," Dave said. He looked away from Klaus' crestfallen expression. "I'm here early to open the cafe and registers before customers get here. I can't let non-employees in." He was lying. As the assistant store manager, he had a little leeway. He could get away with bending the rules here and there, as long as it was truly harmless. Dave didn't think letting a strange high man wander the store before there were more employees to keep an eye on him was harmless, though. Klaus was handsome and intriguing and Dave couldn't help but stare at him, but he couldn't risk his job for somebody he'd met the day before.  
  
"Oh. Okay." He had his back to Klaus but the words struck him nonetheless. It was a soft, defeated tone. Dave turned to face the other man again.  
  
"Why are you here, Klaus?" Dave asked quietly. Klaus looked to his left and gave more consideration to the empty patch of air than was really reasonable. This time it at least made sense. Dave wasn't even going to guess at what Klaus' inebriated brain was imagining up. Hallucinogens could produce all sorts of terrible imagery and plant it into real life. Klaus drew his attention from whatever he was seeing and back to Dave.  
  
"The book. He didnt-" He stopped himself short and let out a huff. "I didn't finish it," he continued. Dave tried to remember the specific book from the other six dozen he'd found for customers yesterday.  
  
"Oh, Descartes, right? Passion of....discourse?" He couldn't recall the exact title. He had been more focused on the man picking it out than the book itself. Klaus' head swung the to left, paused, and swung back to him. He was truly never still.  
  
"Passions of the Soul," Klaus corrected. Dave looked at the empty spot that the other man kept focusing on. Now he was curious to whatever imagined horrors kept dragging Klaus' attention away from their conversation. Klaus followed Dave's gaze and flinched. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket down to his wrists and crossed his arms.  
  
"Ok. You can come in and read it when we open." Klaus nodded after a quick glance to the left. Dave wanted to ask, but he was really running late now. The store wasn't going to open itself. "I have to go in now."  
  
Klaus offered a weak smile in response. He didn't move. Dave pushed down a confusing wave of both irritation and guilt. The birds perched on the sign above chirped our their morning song. Cars passed by, engines sputtering and breaks squealing. Their tires audibly crunched loose gravel as they traveled by. Klaus remained in his spot. Dave scrunched his eyes shut and put a hand to his forehead.  
  
"Give me a minute," he said as he unlocked the front doors and walked into the store. He turned the corner and punched the code in to disarm the security system. It took him a minute or two to get to the philosophy section, tucked into the tail end of fiction. A...B...C...D! He bent over and grabbed a mass market paperback copy: their cheapest version. Dave walked back to the front doors with purpose. He opened the door and stood halfway through the threshold. Now is the part where you say something, he realized.  
  
"Here," he said. Klaus was perched against the pillar, a lit cigarette in his mouth. He perked up and stood straight, pulling the half smoked butt from between his lips and exhaling. The smile that crossed his face was sweet. Dave tried to ignore it. Klaus took the book with his free hand and grinned at a different empty space. His teeth were white and his jawline was strong and Dave was begging his stupid brain to stop waxing poetic about this offbeat, outlandish guy.  
  
"I'm sorry that I can't let you in. But you can borrow this for now," he said, putting emphasis on the word borrow. Drug addled or mentally ill or abused or just lost, Klaus seemed like someone that needed help. Worst case scenario, he could spare a few of his own dollars to replace the book.  
  
"Oh, I understand. Thank you for letting him borrow it." Dave narrowed his eyes. Him? Klaus took a deep drag from his cigarette. The mild breeze pushed the smoke as it waltzed through the air. He dropped the butt and put it out with the toe of his boot. Klaus looked around the parking lot for a moment.  
  
"Where will you go?" Dave was encouraging him by asking, but he wanted to know. He felt terrible turning somebody away. Klaus didn't look at him. He turned on his heel and sauntered down the sidewalk.  
  
\---  
  
He didn't see Klaus again that day. It had been busy enough that he'd completely forgotten about the man until his head hit pillow that night. School vacations always brought the bored crowds to the store. Frantic wasn't enough to describe the pace he'd worked at all morning and afternoon. As he closed his eyes that night, he remembered handing over the book.  
  
"Fuck," he muttered. It wasn't the first time he'd been too trusting of a new customer, but it didn't stem the disappointment. As messy and demanding as they could be, Dave truly loved his customers: the young children gushing over their favorite new series, the older women who winked at him as they bought romance novels, and even the uppity guys that slipped Twilight into a pile of Kafka, as if he wouldn't notice.  
  
He'd loved books his entire life. His siblings had been gifted: athletic, academically talented, musically. Everybody else had something concrete. Dave loved nothing more as a boy than to pour over as many books as the library would let him bring home at once. He knew he fell short of expectations. The one silver lining was that his parents were so happy with and distracted by his siblings, that he was more or less allowed to live out his adult life as he pleased.  
  
They saw to it that he did well in high school, and graduated from a reasonably well known local college. When he accepted a full time position at the bookstore where he'd worked part time in the summers, nobody in his family batted an eye. With his insanely talented siblings in the mix, Dave's day to day life never seemed to take center stage. Not being a truly gigantic disappointment was great, of course, but sometimes he wanted more than that. He wished that what he made of himself would bring a real smile to his family's face. That being a bookseller and connecting people with art they'd love and be moved by was something people were impressed with.  
  
Dave pressed his cheek into the pillow. After this many years, he shouldn't be surprised. Bookselling would never be glamorous, and he oftentimes gave the wrong people the benefit of the doubt. As lovely as his customers could be, there would always be a few rotten apples. He chalked it up to a loss and hoped he'd remember to pay for the book come the morning.  
  
When he pushed open the doors for his midday shift the following day, he immediately spotted Klaus crouched in front of the 'staff recommends' table. He wore a black leather skirt and t-shirt. It wasn't a bad look.  
  
"Are you here to return my book?" Klaus's head turned so quickly to look at him that he threw his balance off and landed on the floor. He looked up at Dave with wide eyes. For the second time now, this strange man was sprawled on the bookstore's carpet. He looked like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dave let out a loud laugh. Klaus rested his hands on the floor and looked up at him.  
  
"You have a nice laugh," he said. He looked up at him without blinking. Dave quieted and turned his face away. He put a hand to the back of his neck and scratched.  
"Thanks," he said carefully. Klaus lowered his head a little to look at the ground. Dave hesitated. He extended his arm to the man.  
  
"Let me help you up." Klaus' arm shot forward and gripped Dave's tightly. Dave gave a tug and helped the other man up. The tight grip on his arm stayed. He looked down at Klaus' arm on his. The nails were painted a dark, deep blue. The color mirrored the few bruises that littered the limb. They hadn't been there before.  
  
Klaus drew his arm back as he noticed Dave's intent gaze. He reached into the deep folds of his jacket and pulled out a book. Dave took it from him and inspected it.  
  
"Good as new!" Klaus smiled. He looked at the display next to them. "So if these books are recommended by the staff, each one of them has to be like, fantastically life changing, right? Really deep and moving shit, yeah? " He picked up a children's board book and flipped through the heavy pages.  
  
"Not necessarily," Dave said. "It just means we like them. Minda recommended that one because her nephew likes it, and she figures other kids would too." He grabbed a different book and handed it to Klaus. Klaus ran his fingers over the powder blue cover.  
  
"Our head receiving worker, Chris, picked this. His dad served in Vietnam, and he said that he understood more of what his Dad had been through after he read it. Some recommendations are deep and meaningful, and others are just fun. As long as there's a personal connection." Klaus put both of the books back. He walked closer to the display and grabbed a small purple paperback. His hands had a slight shake. He held the book gently, as if it would shatter.  
  
"And the story behind this one?" Dave watched Klaus flip through the book. His careful movements were so different from the flailing disaster he'd been when he knocked the toy display over. He took the book from Klaus' hands. His thumb brushed the back of the other man's hand as he drew back. Their eyes met. Klaus had eyelashes as thick and long as June grass. Dave swallowed.  
  
"My aunt loved this book. We've always been close. She would read it aloud to me, even though I could already read. It's a very sweet book," he said. He turned the book over in his hands and looked at the cover. "The prose is gorgeous and the _characters_ , oh man. There's a shop boy who's not really just a shop boy, and a fallen star, and a slow burn romance. And magic! I love magic." Dave cut himself off. He tended to ramble about the things he loved for longer than anybody else could tolerate. Klaus' brows were raised and he wore a tiny smile. He pulled the book from Dave's hands.  
  
"I'd like to buy it," he said. He forced his fingers into the pocket of his tight jeans and pulled out a wrinkled twenty with much difficulty. Klaus held it out proudly, like a child using their birthday money. Dave hoped it wasn't damp.  
  
"Technically speaking, we have to do it by the register." Klaus' eyebrows jumped up and his eyes widened. Dave sputtered. "I didn't mean it that way!" He threw out his hands and put his palms toward Klaus.  
  
"I just meant...oh, you know what I meant!" Klaus waggled his eyebrows. Dave put his hands over his face. There was a hand on his wrist and his arm was pulled away. Klaus pulled the other one away and gave him a thumbs up.  
  
"Now that I've sufficiently embarrassed you at your place of employment, might I buy my book?" They were standing close to one another. Dave caught a whiff of a light, floral perfume rolling off him and inhaled. He nodded and walked to the register. When they finished the transaction, Klaus gripped his bag tightly with a smile on his face.  
  
" _Danke sehr_ ," he called over his shoulder. He did a twirl on his way out and Dave spent the next few minutes staring at the front door.  
  
"Hello?" He turned to face a stout older woman with a doughy face. She smiled and her painted red lips pulled back to reveal crooked teeth. The lines around her eyes crinkled like leaves under a boot.  
  
"Oh, Alma, I'm sorry! I was just a little distracted." Dave logged himself back into the register and scanned the woman's books. He shrugged off his emotions and tried to slide back into the customer service mindset. The bag was full of small, paperback books by the time he had regained his full composure. Alma smiled up at him.  
  
"Was she pretty?" Dave ripped the receipt from the printer forcibly. This had been the weirdest day ever, and he'd only been at work for a half hour.  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"The girl, Davey! The one that distracted you! Was she pretty?" Dave looked above her right shoulder. He thought of thick, messy hair and dark lashes and long leather clad legs. A sharp jawline, an unkempt beard, a flowing skirt, a smudge of kohl around the eyes. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and put his hand in his pocket.  
  
"Yes," he said. "Very pretty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments!!! I'm glad people enjoy this idea!! Dave is a nice, sweet, PAINFULLY awkward guy and you can't convince me any other way (blease check his dancing if you need proof)!!!! Sorry it took a while for this next chapter but expositions are tough for me, and I also work kinda crazy hours! I'm excited for where we're going with this and I have so many ideas for it, thank you all so much!!! You can also find me on tumblr at klausgraves if you wanna chat!


	3. iii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave is just trying to keep his bookstore open, and the stoned hottie that keeps wandering in and talking at the air really, really isn't helping.

Blooming forsythias the color of butter lined the sidewalks of the city. Women wore draped chiffon blouses and light cotton t-shirts. Dogs with freshly trimmed coats trotted along, stopping to inspect every object in their path. Dave peered out the bus window at the streets below. The funk of winter had finally faded, and it would be at least a few weeks before the griping about the summer heat began. This was Dave’s favorite time of year, and he took pleasure in the cool breeze on his way into work.  
The weather had left him in such a genial mood that much of his shift slipped by without his noticing. It was only when the sun turned a blazing red against the crease of the horizon that Dave realized something was missing. In the past few weeks, Klaus had become a regular sight in the store. Dave found him in the oddest spots: reaching up to pluck an item from antiques & collectibles, crouched in reference, laying on the ground of the wedding section with his long legs perpendicular to the floor. He had gotten used to seeing the other man a handful of times a week. Rarely since that first purchase had he bought anything, but Dave noticed that he always put things back carefully.  
His shift was nearing its end. He was only slightly embarrassed to admit his disappointment. When he’d been called in to cover a shift, again, he’d hoped to at least catch a glimpse at their most intriguing regular. He leaned with his back against the smooth oak of the customer service desk and crossed his arms. Minda hummed quietly next to him, her dark silky hair plaited into a long braid that draped over her shoulder as she shelved books.  
“Did Klaus come in at all today?” Dave picked at some imaginary lint on his shirt. Minda paused in her movements and fixed him with the exact look his mother had worn when he claimed the weed she’d found in his room was really just catnip. Perhaps the lie would have gone better if they’d actually had a cat, but he digressed. He felt exposed and rubbed the soft cotton of his t-shirt.  
“Shut up,” he said. She said nothing and it made him squirm. “I’m just curious is all.” She flicked her braid back as she stood to her full height. The light glinted off the long jade earrings that grazed her neck.  
“Considering you weren’t scheduled to work, no, no he didn’t.”  
She rolled the empty v-cart behind the desk, retrieved another, and got back to work. Dave pushed himself from his perch and took a step towards her.  
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Minda sighed and rolled her eyes. A hard work ethic was one of her many strengths; patience was not.  
“I mean, he only shows up when you’re here. How thick are you?”  
“He’s never once shown up when I’m not here? That’s impossible. You probably just miss him when he’s here on my days off,” Dave scoffed. Her attention shifted to him fully, which he instantly regretted.  
“Actually, he hasn’t. At least not since I started giving him your schedule.” Dave started and looked at her, bewildered.  
“Minda,” he said. “I’m asking you as a friend and a coworker: what on earth would ever possess you to do something like that?” He gestured wildly with his hands.  
“That’s sensitive, personal information! He could be stalking me!”  
“Oh please, he’s harmless. The other day I saw him grab a toy from a higher shelf for a little girl, and when she said ‘tank you’, he started crying, Dave. Crying. One time he argued with me for five minutes about whether knitting or crocheting is morally and intellectually superior, and then asked me where I got my glitter nail polish. If that man is a danger to anybody, then I’ll wear a shirt that says “I was wrong and Dave was right” for a week,” she said.  
“A month, at least,” he retorted. He thought back to Klaus’ various visits. It was obvious that Dave was his go to worker, but he’d gotten to know Minda and the head barista Iris quite well. He’d slipped into the habit of giving Klaus some of the pastries that were going out. It had started after he’d heard a particularly loud rumble from his stomach as he passed over a Kant book. When he gave him the first pastry, Klaus grinned at him, smile beaming, and Dave had never quite gotten around to putting an end to it.  
Last week, he had reached down to snag a scone that was going out and Iris elbowed him in the ribs sharply.  
“He likes the raspberry ones better,” she said as her gaze flicked to the man in question.  
“What? How do you even know that?” Dave grasped the scone she gestured to with parchment paper and slid it on to a crisp, white plate. He set a napkin down and placed a metal fork and knife on top.  
“He told me! He talks a lot. Honestly, it’s pretty welcome when we’re slow, but I don’t know if he’s getting any reading done. He just kind of...flips the pages without looking at them. I really can’t judge though, because that’s how I used to do my school readings,” she drawled as she squeezed the sanitizer solution from a blue cloth. Dave crossed the tiled floor of the cafe and put the plate down on the only occupied table. Klaus looked up at him and dropped the hoodie string he’d been worrying in his mouth.  
“Oh, raspberry! Raspberry is my favorite. You really know the way to a guy’s heart, huh?” He spared a look back over his shoulder and received a sly wink from Iris as she wiped the counter.  
Dave Katz knew himself to be a moderately like-able guy. He’d never been particularly popular growing up, but he’d always had a core group of friends. People generally responded well to his easy going, laid back attitude. His first, and only, girlfriend had told him that his presence was reassuring. It had only taken her about two days to realize that he was actually gay, so he figured she was probably right about the other stuff too.  
The sound of the phone ringing pulled him from this thought. He turned away from Minda and wandered back to the customer service desk, lost in thought. Did Klaus only come in to see him? The rest of his shift passed in a blur.  
He slept restlessly that night and felt the exhaustion tugging at him the next morning. For once he was thankful for an irregular work schedule as he hit the snooze button with a sleep heavy arm and let his face nestle back into his pillow. By the time he woke again in the mid-morning the fog had cleared from his head.  
He rose from his bed and started his daily routine: coffee, shower, shave, dress, brush teeth, forget to comb hair, feed the cat, get distracted by the cat, take multiple photos of the cat, sprint to the bus stop, ride the bus, get to work, work, work, work, work. His shift passed even more uneventfully than the last, and by the time the last hour rolled around he was itching to get out. When 6:30 finally came, he grabbed his wallet and phone and punched out swiftly.  
As he passed through the doors outside, he collided with a figure and landed straight on his ass. Pain shot up his spine. A single pink converse was sat in his lap. As he blinked the tears from his eyes, he noticed it was attached to a skinny, slightly hairy ankle. He looked from the ankle up the leg, torso, and face of the person he’d collided with. Klaus looked back at him with the same infectious grin he always wore.  
“We have to stop meeting this way,” he said coquettishly. Dave let his head hang low and sighed. Klaus was such a ham. A warm feeling took root in his chest. He stood, dusted off his thighs, and offered a hand.  
“This time I only have myself to blame.” Dave appraised Klaus’ appearance. He was attractive, as always, but there was something different about him. His ever-present frenetic energy was in full force, but his movements lacked their usual tremor.  
“Are you ok?”  
“Who, me? I’m good! Good, good, good.” He plucked his cigarette from the ground and stuck it in his mouth. Dave cringed. “Peachy keen, even,” he said around it. “Very much a-ok. All is good...in this hood,” he trailed off and held the flame up to his lips.  
Dave opened his mouth, but no words came to mind. The acrid smell of the cigarette wafted over him and he was reminded of late nights in cramped dorms, before the true weight of adult life had fully set in. He leveled Klaus with a look.  
“That was a very bizarre answer, Klaus. Like, ‘attach a leash to your child’ levels of bizarre.”  
“You think that’s bizarre? Oh man. I suspect we have wildly different life experiences, my dear.” Dave ignored the endearment to pursue the troubling implication. He stepped out of the path of the front doors and Klaus followed.  
“I asked if you were okay and you sort of...short circuited, I think?” His only answer was the crackle of flame turning the tightly rolled paper to ashes. He lowered his chin to break the eye contact.  
“People don’t usually ask me that kind of question,” he sighed. “I mean, EMTs and nurses and doctors do, but they don’t really count.” His hand leapt to cover his mouth and his eyes widened. “Not that I’m saying that they’re not people! They are! Very important people, in fact!” Dave’s lips were begging him to smile. He pursed them and suppressed a laugh. The floundering was charming, he admitted to himself. Still, the sentiment remained troubling.  
“Your family and friends, they must ask you how you’re doing,” he said.  
“Ah, well, speaking in technical terms, one might be able to say that I’m currently lacking dearly in the friendship department.”  
“I find that hard to believe. You’re very fun to be around,” Dave offered. Klaus beamed back at him.  
“It’s not the making friends part I struggle with. It’s the keeping them around thing that I just can’t get.” A wiry man exited the store and sneered at the lit cigarette. Klaus stuck his tongue out in response.  
“Anyway, I sort of had a falling out with my last...friend group, so we’re flying solo for now.” Dave noted, once again, Klaus’ tendency to refer to himself as ‘we’. He thought for a moment.  
“And your family,” he asked. “What about them?”  
Klaus looked past him with a pinched expression.  
“Up until a few months ago, I hadn’t spoken to my other siblings in years. We’re all kind of relearning how to coexist as a slightly functioning family unit. I think we’re doing pretty well, all things considered.”  
Dave was at a loss. Every question evoked an odder and odder response from Klaus. Normally he’d have been delighted to get a look into the man’s mysterious life, but something about the interaction felt off. He scrambled to think up the right response and in failing, triggered his age old solution to awkward situations: run.  
“Well, I won’t keep you if you’re gonna go in the store. I just got off for the day, actually,” he said, attempting a casual tone. By his guess, there were at least four or five viable escape routes.  
“I know!” Dave raised his brows. “I mean, I figured you would be. I actually came to talk to you. Do you want to go out tonight?” Klaus put the cigarette out and tossed it in the trash. The question took him by surprise. With the tense mood dissolved, Dave glanced down at himself. He was wearing black combat boots, jeans, and an olive-green cotton shirt.  
“I don’t think I’m really dressed for the occasion.”  
“Nonsense!” Dave watched as Klaus gave him a lingering look from head to toe. “You already look hot.” He leaned in and carefully slipped the glasses from Dave’s face and placed them in his t-shirt pocket.  
“Can I?” He lifted a hand to Dave’s hairline. The bookseller lightly nodded. Klaus ran his hand through Dave’s hair and shook the curls loose from where they’d stuck together during the day.  
“Perfect,” he said.  
“My very own hot girl makeover,” Dave responded, dryly. It drew a light laugh from Klaus that bounced off the cement and brick pillars surrounding them.  
“So, is that a yes?” Truth be told, it had been a long time since he’d gone out, and he did have the next day off. He had been hoping to see the man, after all. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth. The doors squeaked loudly next to him as another customer exited the store.  
"Sure," he conceded. Klaus's feet left the ground and he clapped excitedly. He gestured gaudily for Dave to go first. Dave strode past him toward the road leading from the shopping plaza.  
"Where exactly are we going?"  
"Machine is like, two blocks from here," Klaus said as he pulled a significantly wider cigarette from his pocket. The absolute chimney. "Weed?" Dave nodded and took the joint from Klaus. He gestured for the lighter and lit the joint, turning it in the flames so it wouldn't canoe later on.  
"Seems like you've done this before." Dave planned a witty response, but it was cut short by a coughing fit that stopped him in his tracks. He quickly handed the joint back over and wiped his eyes. Klaus wore an apologetic expression.  
"Sorry, I should have mentioned that it's a spliff." Dave took a few deep breaths to clear the tight feeling from his chest. He swallowed hard.  
"It's fine," he said. "It's just been a long time since I've smoked much of anything." He held his hand out and Klaus passed the joint back. Dave took his next two hits tentatively. They passed the joint back and forth leisurely as they walked along the mostly deserted sidewalk.  
"So, anything interesting going on at your store recently?" The sound of their shoes slapping the ground and the cars passing by made pleasant background noise for the conversation.  
“Well, two of our customers are currently fighting back and forth via graffiti in the women’s bathroom stalls, and I think it’d be rude to cut them off. Also, I really want to see who wins.” Klaus snorted and stomped the roach of the joint out with his shoe.  
"What are they arguing about?"  
"How many angels can dance on the head of a pin, apparently. I think it's some sort of philosophical argument," Dave said. Klaus let out a choked sound.  
"Is that so," he asked, feigning innocence. Dave failed to pick up on his tone.  
"Anyway, it beats the usual graffiti. Usually it's A+L 4EVER, that kind of thing, so this is actually sort of refreshing." They rounded the corner and walked around the beginning of a short line that led into a bricked building. From where they stood, Dave could hear the booming bass reverberating and see the neon lights shining from inside the club. Klaus was practically buzzing with energy next to him.  
"Well," he said through a manic grin. "Here we are!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK!!!! i started a second job and i have had absolutely no energy in the past month to do anything fandom related, everybody say "fuck you american student loan debt crisis!!!" but no fear i am 100% committed to finishing this bad larry, partly because i keep spacing out at work thinking about it lmao, all of your comments and kudos are so sweet thank you guys so much!!! also yes, there are currently two people going back and forth with graffiti in the women's bathroom where i work and so far none of us have done anything about it so i felt it was 100% necessary to include it in the fic and machine is a gay club in boston that i love because i simply refuse to separate reality from fiction !!! as per usual i wish this was longer, but i didn't want to make you guys wait any longer, and hopefully the next chapter will be up in the next two weeks so you won't have to wait nearly as long!

**Author's Note:**

> i work in a bookstore/cafe and it is by FAR the most bizarre job ive ever had, including the time i was a stagehand for beyoncé!!!! this fic is born from that bc dave is absolutely just a normal guy that attracts chaos and just fuckin....runs with it
> 
> dave's pov but DO NOT FEAR ben is a big part of this story and if you think i'd pass up the chance to write all seven hargreeves children arguing in public about coffee then i can't help you!!!
> 
> this is so short i am sorry but i just wanted to get a little bit out there and see if people were into it lmao, im thinking this will probably be at least 20k in the end!


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